The Peter Parker Predicament
by Jesserfly
Summary: It was only when Flash caught himself staring at Peter's eyelashes instead of the sheet of chemical equations that he realized he had a bigger problem than chemistry.


First of all, Flash did honestly try to study for the test. However, after opening the weighty science textbook and tying to read the small print and examine the diagrams, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and go to sleep. Without Gwen Stacy tutoring him, Flash had no one to explain what he didn't understand and offer him praise when he did well. So he closed his eyes, just to rest them, and didn't wake up until the morning. He _did_ try, and that was the most important thing. At least, that's what he told himself.

But when it all came down to it, really, it was all Peter Parker's fault!

In the middle of taking the exam, Flash looked around the room, hoping to sneak a look at someone else's answers, but had instead noticed that Parker had dozed off. He glanced over at the teacher, busy with whatever papers were in front of her, and started crumpling up sheets of scrap paper into little balls. The first hit Parker in the lower back. When that failed to wake him, Flash tried again. The second landed into the mess that was his hair. A couple landed on his desk, but the last one bounced off him and onto the desk of another student. Flash's head ducked down immediately, pretending to pay attention to his exam while wondering how the hell anyone could keep sleeping through what he'd just done.

After a minute or so, when he thought it was safe to continue, Flash looked back up again: the teacher was still busy and Parker was still snoozing the test away. Glaring at the back of that messy head of hair, he reached into the drawstring bag at the foot of his desk and started fishing out small items. In the end, Flash had armed himself with a few stray paperclips, a worn out rubber eraser, and, finally, a folded paper football. One by one, Flash launched each of the small objects at his sleeping classmate until the paper football hit him directly in the back of the neck and caused him to yelp and promptly wake up.

"Ow!" Finally! Flash could feel a proud grin stretching across his face at the accomplishment. Parker turned around, a confused look on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. When he caught Flash grinning at him, he replied with a glower. Flash shrugged, ready to mouth boasts at him, except he had the distinct feeling he was being watched. Slowly turning his head, Flash swallowed the lump in his throat when he saw his teacher sitting at her desk, arms crossed and an irritable look on her face.

"See me after class. You too, Peter," was all she had said, looking at her students with an expression that clearly told each and every one of them to mind their own business and get back to work. Flash groaned and sunk back into his seat, not at all missing the resentful look Parker aimed at him before looking back at his probably unfinished exam. Pfft, whatever. He looked back down at the test in front of him and picked up his pencil, struggling to answer the rest of the questions with his best educated guesses.

* * *

Flash stood beside Parker, head hanging down in shame. He felt like a child all over again, getting scolded for pulling someone's hair and then shoving them in a sandbox. And that was something he hadn't done in a long time.

"Ever since Gwen had to stop tutoring you, your grades have been slipping," his teacher said, giving Flash a pointed look. Turning to Parker, she resumed. "And Peter, I understand you've been through a lot this year, but I can't have you sleeping through classes. And least of all, I can't have you fighting with each other like grade schoolers! You boys are in high school. Whatever problems you have with one another, you better get over quick because, Peter, you'll be tutoring Flash from now on."

Whatever the look on Parker's face, she must have interpreted that he was ready to protest her punishment. She held her hand up and signaled that he should close his mouth if he knew what was good for him. "I don't even want to hear it; I want results. Flash, I better see your grades pick up, and Peter, you're done showing up late and using my class as your own personal nap-time. You two will behave in no manner less than civil. Am I understood?"

The two unintentionally chorused a "Yes, ma'am!" and their teacher looked pleased that they'd already found a common ground. Smiling sweetly, she excused them to get on with the rest of their day.

"Great, look what you've done now," Parker grumbled as they left the class and entered the hallway. They were mostly alone, aside from a few straggling students here and there who would probably be late to class if they actually cared.

"What I've done?!" growled Flash, turning to face his current annoyance. He felt himself growing angry and, recalling what his guidance counselor suggested in reference to his rage, he took in a deep breath and counted to ten. The last thing he needed was to get detention for beating the crap out of his new tutor on top of his most likely bombed test. Anymore disturbances, and Flash would find himself benched, maybe indefinitely, and who knew what his pops would do if that happened. But really, he couldn't understand why Parker was so mad at him for this. Clenching his teeth, Flash phrased what he wanted to say in the nicest way possible. "Jeez, for a smart kid, you sure can be dumb."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Parker snapped, his fists tight like he was preparing for a brawl between them. What a joke! As if Parker could actually beat him in a fight. Okay, sure, there was that freak basketball accident in the gym, but Flash chalked that one up to dumb luck. And yeah, okay, so Parker was getting more toned, but a few trips to the weight room were definitely not going to be enough to take on Flash, who may or may not have had a record of violence.

Shrugging, Flash simply replied, "Well if it wasn't for me, you would have slept through that entire test."

Parker's hands relaxed and the unhappy look on his face slowly faded, only to be replaced with a perplexed one. "Wait. Are you telling me you flung a paper football at me just to wake me up?"

"A paper football, among other things," Flash admitted. "Also it seemed like more fun than taking the test. You're a hard person to wake up, you know that?" At that, Parker rolled his eyes. Whatever he may have previously thought about Flash's act of kindness was probably now being classified as a typical, dumb jock thing. That worked just as well for him.

"Great. That's great, really," Parker muttered, combing his fingers through his hair, an action that caused Flash's second paper ball to fall from his head and onto the floor between them. Not even Parker's pissy expression could prevent the strangled laughter spilling from Flash's mouth like water from a busted dam. When Parker sighed heavily, Flash got the feeling that he was holding back some rage issues of his own. "If I'm any later to my next class, my lit teacher is going to kill me," he said with a bored tone. "Just meet me out front after school and we'll work out a schedule from there." When he didn't get any response out of Flash, who was still too busy laughing hysterically, Parker just shook his head and walked away. Flash followed his example not long after and headed to his own class, still snickering as he kicked the small paper ball under a row of lockers.

* * *

The rest of Flash's day went off without a hitch. Thankfully he didn't have any other tests to take, so he spent most of the day getting his ear talked off by boring teachers for boring classes that he really couldn't give a rat's ass about. Gym gave him the chance to run out any of his lingering frustrations towards Parker and the shoddy job he did on his test. During lunch, he made out with a random cheerleader. Overall, Flash had had worse days.

Leaving the school building, he made his way to his car, bright red and sleek, no dents, no scratches; his baby was cherry, but only because he repaired her that way. Since he didn't have basketball practice that afternoon (not like he needed it, let's be honest), Flash would have been lying if he said he hadn't forgotten his meeting with Parker as he pulled out of his parking spot. But the sight of the messy haired boy standing awkwardly in front of the school, clutching his skateboard in both hands reminded him. Carefully, Flash changed course and pulled up in front of Parker, greeting him with a honk of the horn.

Parker jumped in response, having somehow not noticed Flash pulling up beside him.

"This week I've only got practice tomorrow and Thursday," Flash informed him, "so we can head over to your place right away and study." Parker nodded along his acknowledgement, but it seemed as though his mind was elsewhere. "Uh," he started, feeling uncomfortable by how one-sided the conversation was. "Do you want, like, a lift or something? Since we're both heading to the same place?"

"What? Oh, no. No thanks, I mean. I've got my board." Parker gave his skateboard a couple pats, like he might have been trying to remind himself that it still existed or something. "I'll just meet you there." He set his skateboard down and got on it, skating away with a half-assed wave.

And that was when Flash realized he didn't have Parker's address. Cursing under his breath, he decided to try and follow after him. After all, how hard could it be to catch up to some stupid teenager on a skateboard in New York?

Well, a lot harder than it seemed, as it turned out. When Flash finally got out of the school parking lot and drove in the same direction he'd seen Parker skating to, the guy was nowhere to be found! It was like he'd vanished or something. Flash scratched his head in confusion until he heard a horn blaring behind him, demanding that he continue driving.

* * *

"What took you so long?" Parker asked from his comfortable looking spot on the porch steps when Flash finally arrived.

He parked in front of the house and tossed his cellphone over to Parker with a glare, but was silently impressed with his reflexes when he easily caught the object with a simple stretch of his hand. The phone showed a Google page that listed the address he'd failed to get earlier. "Whoops! My bad," was Parker's idea of an apology, but from the look of his cheeky smile, Flash wasn't so sure it was unintentional.

When Parker stood and handed back his cellphone, Flash noticed something different about him. Yeah, he was pretty sure that black eye hadn't been there before they parted ways. And although Flash definitely wanted to slug Parker for the trouble he went through just tracking him down, he also wondered if maybe this was his fault, if it would have been different if he'd only insisted on driving them both. He opened his mouth, ready to ask his new tutor about the sudden blemish, but Parker cut him off before he could even get the words out. "C'mon in, my aunt's making cookies." Flash may have been a bit dim, but he wasn't stupid. He knew when someone was changing a subject. Even though he was filled with curiosity and possibly even a little concern, Flash didn't press. Instead he nodded and entered the house after him.

The sweet aroma of chocolate chip cookies assaulted his sense of smell and the inside of the house was comfortably warm. Unable to suppress a smile at the inviting mood, Flash shrugged off his jacket and pushed it into Parker's hands, who then hung it up on a nearby coat rack. He found his way into the kitchen by following the smell of cookies, where he was welcomed by an older woman with a friendly smile.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," he greeted, returning the smile with a small wave. If there was one thing Flash learned from his mama, it was that you should always treat a woman with the utmost respect, a lesson his pops had to learn the hard way. "I'm Flash."

"Oh please, call me Aunt May," she replied, delight dripping from her voice as she fiddled with her oven mitts. "Peter never brings friends home."

Parker came up behind him and cleared his throat, choking out something along the lines of "he's not a friend, I'm just tutoring him."

"Peter!" Aunt May scolded, but even while frowning, she couldn't rid herself of the air of kindness about her. Flash liked it.

He turned to Parker and smiled, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. "Aw, he's just kidding, Aunt May! We're good buds and he's nice enough to help me out with chem." Flash could have sworn he heard Parker cough something that sounded like "two-faced" so he squeezed his tutor a little harder until he heard him squeak, then let go. But the damage was done and Aunt May looked happily convinced by his ploy.

"Well then, don't let me be a bother. Why don't you two head up to Peter's room and I'll bring you boys some snacks a little later."

"Thanks Aunt May," Parker replied with a smile, motioning for Flash to follow. As they headed up the stairs, Parker asked him in a hushed voice, "What was that about?"

"What was what about?"

"That whole thing with my aunt just now. Obviously none of that was true." Flash only shrugged in response as they rounded the corner into a hallway. Truthfully, he wasn't sure what that was about either, but something about the way she was acting made it seem like she needed to hear that her only nephew wasn't a friendless social recluse. Parker shot him a suspicious look before shaking his head and walking into his room. "And people think I'm the weird one."

"Oh, you are," Flash agreed with a snicker. He hurled himself onto Parker's bed and made himself at home, like it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. The expression on Parker's face said otherwise. "What? This is really comfortable."

"I dunno, I just figured we'd actually use the desk to study, or something." He motioned to desk to add emphasis.

"Oh! My b," There was something about the Parker residence that just made it so easy for Flash to drop his guard and relax. He moved from the bed to the desk, pulling out his books from his drawstring bag. "I know I look good, Parker, but don't just stand there staring. We've got work to do." Well. _Some_ of his guard. Nevertheless, he did catch the small amused expression on Parker's face as he sat beside Flash and opened up the textbook.

* * *

True to her word, Aunt May delivered a tray of warm cookies and two glasses of milk up to the room during the study session. Flash thanked her profusely while Parker moved their materials off the desk, signaling that it was time to take a break. They sat quietly munching cookies until Parker finally broke the silence. "Honestly, I'm a little surprised at how easily you're going along with this." At Flash's questioning look and mouthful of cookie, he specified. "I figured you wouldn't want to be seen near me, let alone study with me."

"I'm really bad at chemistry," Flash conceded, gulping down the milk to wash down the cookie. "And you're really good. As long as you're not asleep. Because then you kinda suck."

Parker laughed, tilting his chair back and propping it up against the desk behind him. "You are pretty bad at chemistry." Flash scowled and flicked a gooey chocolate chip at him in response. "But you show a lot of room for improvement! I've noticed that you do grasp the concept, it just takes you a little while to understand it. And," he paused, as though he wasn't sure whether or not he should finish the sentence. "You're not as dumb a jock as you like to pretend."

Flash's ears burned in embarrassment and he looked away, finishing the glass of milk. Parker himself looked flustered at having said that. He wasn't sure what to make of any of it so he just stuffed another cookie in his mouth, chewing so he wouldn't have to say anything. Except that didn't stop Parker. It was like some sort of defense mechanism kicked in and went wrong at the same time and suddenly he couldn't shut up. "I mean, you're not dumb, but you are a jock, because you play basketball, and stuff. But if you were dumb, that is to say—" Oh god, it was getting painful. Flash had to do something to stop him.

Grabbing a cookie, he made a play to stuff it in Parker's mouth, effectively shutting him up. While Parker's face turned red and he concentrated on chewing instead of spewing rambling nonsense, Flash spoke with a grin, "You know for a kid who's supposed to be smart, you sure do say a lot of stupid shit."

"Sorry," Parker finally said after finishing off the cookie. "Sometimes when I get going, it's kind of hard to stop."

"No kidding," Flash joked still grinning at him. They looked at each other for a moment and then broke out in a fit of laughter at how ridiculous the entire situation was. Parker's chair shook from the force of his laughter and his eyes widened in shock when he realized he was losing balance. Thinking quickly, Flash reached out as the chair began to fall and grabbed Parker by the wrist, but it was too late; Parker was falling, and Flash was coming along for the ride.

The two hit the ground with a loud thump and the furniture around them rattled. When Parker groaned out in pain from beneath him, Flash realized the position they were in and scrambled to climb off the other boy. Flash could feel his entire face grow hot as he distanced himself, mumbling an apology at the same time as Parker, who was probably just as red. Besides the hushed apologies, it was silent, awkwardly so. Scratching at the back of his neck, Flash tried to laugh it off while Parker sat on the floor, looking completely stunned.

"You know, I just remembered," he barely managed to sputter out, glancing down at the watch on his wrist, "I, uh, I gotta be getting home soon, you know? It's getting late." Parker just stupidly nodded at him, lips pressed together tightly— not that Flash was looking, anyway. He cleared his throat and gathered his belongings, trying to avoid looking at Parker the whole time. "I'll, um, see you again tomorrow, okay? Yeah." Flash didn't bother waiting for an affirmative. He sped down the stairs and out of the house right after, pausing only to shout a rushed goodbye to Aunt May.

* * *

When Flash finally made it home, he parked his car in the garage, making sure to take special care not to drive over any tools his father left out. He could still feel the imprint of the last wrench he accidentally backed over when his father had thrown it at his head. There was no way Flash was going to make that mistake again. The garage door shut behind him, and he quietly made his way into the house.

His pops was asleep on the couch, nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels with the television airing some basketball game. Flash sighed and crept into the kitchen, looking into the fridge for something to eat. No one had gone shopping yet, so all he could come up with was a turkey and mustard sandwich, suddenly especially grateful for all those cookies Aunt May had fed him. He ate his sandwich in silence, listening to the game playing on the tv in the other room. When Flash finished, he headed to his room, school books in hand, and relaxed only when he had the door shut behind him.

Setting his books aside, Flash stripped down to his boxers and tumbled face first onto his bed with an exhausted grunt. When he closed his eyes, he imagined what it must be like to live at the Parker home, and he could almost smell the chocolate chip cookies as he fell asleep.


End file.
